Not Again
by bedbugz
Summary: House realizes that nothing lasts forever, and to treasure what he has. OneShot.


This came to me while I was listening to a Mark Willis song... Don't Laugh at Me I believe. You probably don't know it, I listen to Country and Alternitive Rock, and that's a Country...

* * *

"I am not!" 

"You _are_!"

"Stop it! Stop Greg!" A scream comes back, and a little boy stands at the door, hugging a stuffed dog. His bright blue eyes were full of tears.

"No! You need to slow down, think!"

"No!" Her voice goes crinkly. "I'm going to leave!"

"Lisa? Where will you go?" The man's voice said, still loud and angry.

"Anywhere but here or my parents. I'm taking our baby," She said, holding back tears. She scooped up the little boy on her hip and grabbed her bag and was out the door.

The man, the great Gregory House, watched the door slam and stared at it for a couple of minutes, before limping over to his liquor cabinet.

Before he knew it, he had drowned it scotch and passed out in his chair.

- - -

Dr. Lisa Cuddy House's makeup was slipping down her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy. Rain started to speck the windshield as she drove away, far away.

"Mommy? Why are you crying?" A tiny, quiet voice echoed from the backseat.

"Daddy and I had a fight, Andrew."

"What did you fight about? In pre-school Miss Harris says fighting is bad."

"Not a good reason, baby."

"Okay Mommy. I'm going to read my book again."

Cuddy looked back at her child before looking back at the road.

- - -

A phone ringing roused House from his drunken sleep.

He ignored it, as always.

"House, you've got to come in. It's extremely important. Life-changing."

Wilson's voice was sad and cracking.

House sat up, and pondered the message. He groaned and sat up, getting ready to get to work.

- - -

"I'm sorry, House. They haven't come in yet, but the police report says two people, 41-year-old woman and 3-year-old boy."

House was silent, and Wilson watched him.

"It... may not be them. What did you do? How did you make her leave?"

House shook his head before saying very quietly, "I told her she didn't need to work so much. That she needed to focus a little more on our son... and I got really angry. She... started to cry. I... scared Andrew."

"House... how could you?" Wilson said, and instantly regretted it.

"I don't know, okay?" House almost yelled.

The two were silent until the phone rang again.

- - -

He stood behind the glass wall, staring at the two bodies lying on the beds. People slowed as the lines flatted.

The two bodies were almost mutilated, bleeding and blackened. He suddenly realized he would never be able to look into Lisa's eyes, or tussle Andrew's hair.

A tear slid down his cheek.

A man in blue scrubs came out. "They are... gone, Dr. House. You may go in."

House nodded, unable to speak. He didn't know if he could ever speak again.

Walking into the silent room, more tears slid down his cheeks. He walked over to Lisa, and brushed a callused hand against her cheek, and touched her soft hair.

He turned to his son. His wonderful, bright, beautiful son... who was just like his mother. He brushed his hair back, and kissed his forehead. He saw the gashes on his arms and chest.

"He was brain-dead, but died of loss of blood," A voice said, echoing in the room. "She died on impact."

House shook his head. "No... this was my fault. It was all my fault!"

"No, House. It was raining so hard that she was completely blinded."

"If I hadn't made her go, she wouldn't have been out in the rain!"

The man behind him walked in front of him, and put his hands on House's shoulders. "This was /not/ your fault."

House looked away, reaching into his pocket for his pills.

- - -

The days until their funerals seemed to slip by, like he didn't exist. The world blackened. Nothing was important.

All around were their things-Andrew's toys, Lisa's clothes. Lisa's perfume smell seemed to radiate from the rooms, and the smell of new crayons mingled with it.

That day he dressed in his tuxedo, and remembered all the times she tied his bow-tie and walked beside him, arm-in-arm.

A wave of guilt flooded him.

He was unfocused at the drive to the church; the church was the same they got married in. It was too soon for a funeral, too soon.

He couldn't hear all the people talking on their behalf. He could barely hear Andrew's pre-school class, who couldn't understand what 'dead' was.

Before he knew it, people were standing up to walk past the coffins one more time before they were closed and lowered into the ground.

He walked by them, looking one more time. The morgue people had done well-their wounds had been cleaned up. The looked peaceful, almost sleeping. He reached out to Lisa's cheek one more time, to have his hand batted away.

"No touchin', mister."

"She was my wife. He was my son," He said quietly.

"Sorry man, but we can't let you touch them."

"THEY WERE MY FAMILY! MY EVERYTHING, MY LIFE!" House yelled, knocking the man away. He touched her cheek and brushed her soft hair, and kissed her cold, cold lips. He turned to his son and began to sob wildly, but was able to kiss his forehead and touch his hair before someone pulled him away.

It was his mother. His father was next to her, looking down and away from his distraught son.

"It's okay, Greg. Just cry. Let it out."

House's sobs slowed and he hugged his mother. _This is a nightmare_, he thought, _It isn't real._

"I'm not a kid, mom."

"But you've just got the worst news of your life."

House was silent. Again.

- - -

The people filed out, and more sobs could be heard. It was a beautiful day-perfect for Lisa and Andrew. He could see Lisa's eyes twinkling and her hair shining as she relaxed beside him, watching their son play in the park. His eyes welled up again.

Music played quietly in the background, slow and sad. The headstones were white marble, the words golden. He couldn't bear to read the stones.

The coffins were lowered into the ground and the music slowed. He threw the flowers given to him by her mother. They fell on the lids, and he began to cry again.

The ground was lifted over them, and piled onto them. Sod was rolled over it. People began to throw flowers on the new grass. His family had dropped six feet in five minutes.

The people began to fade off as he knelt down, ignoring the pain in his leg, like when he proposed. He touched the headstones and began to sob wildly, tears dripping onto the ground.

He had lost everything.

House was miserable again. At least now he had an excellent reason.

- - -

House woke up. He suddenly realized he wasn't on the ground, and he wasn't at work... and he had a scotch bottle in his hand. He heard the pitter patter of rain against the windows.

He jumped up, grabbing a coat. He slammed the door like it had been before, and hobbled to his bike. He put on the helmet quickly and zoomed out.

He figured she had gone north, towards her parents, although she said she wasn't going to go. He figured, at least.

Speeding past cars on the slick roads, he realized this wasn't the best idea in this weather. But he had to do this. He couldn't lose them again.

Fifteen minutes passed and Cuddy's car still wasn't in sight. He was suddenly angry-he had gone the wrong way. He passed several more cars angrily.

- - -

Cuddy slammed on the horn as a motorbike sped by. In the darkness, she couldn't see the color, but in her headlights, she could see it was bright orange. She honked the horn again, wondering why he was out. She had forgotten the fight in her excitement.

"Greg!" She yelled, although she knew he couldn't hear.

"Daddy? Where?" Andrew struggled in his car seat.

"In front of us!" Cuddy said as the motorbike turned onto the rest stop. She followed.

He parked in the handicap, and she pulled in a regular a bit away. She got out and took out Andrew as Greg limped back over to her. "Lisa," He said quietly. "I didn't want to lose you again."

"Again?" Cuddy asked as he kissed her deeply.

"Yea... I'm sorry," He said, muffled.

Andrew hugged his parents' legs. "I'm _wet_," He announced.

Greg and Lisa laughed as they broke apart. Greg picked up Andrew and they walked to cover.

* * *

The Inspiration

I'm the cripple on the corner  
You've passed me on the street  
And I wouldn't be out here beggin'  
If I had enough to eat  
And don't think I don't notice  
That our eyes never meet

I lost my wife and little boy when  
Someone cross that yellow line  
The day we laid them in the ground  
Is the day I lost my mind  
And right now I'm down to holdin'  
This little cardboard sign...so

Don't laugh at me  
Don't call me names  
Don't get your pleasure from my pain  
In God's eyes we're all the same  
Someday we'll all have perfect wings  
Don't laugh at me 


End file.
